All the Wrong Places
by Darthishtar
Summary: My version of Ep 3--the fall of the Republic, the birth of the Empire, the extinction of the Jedi, and the start of a family
1. In the heat of battle

"Watch your back!"  
  
Anakin Skywalker whirled, firing at his attacker before ducking behind a partition. A blast hit just millimeters from his left ear, indicating it was time to find better cover.  
  
Dropping into a crouch, he moved stealthily across the thirty yards separating him from a wrecked speeder bike. Ten degrees to his right, he could see Padme, biding her time until she could get a clean shot at their enemy.  
  
Even in a skirmish, she was nothing if precise.  
  
He saw her eyes narrow and she sighted in, pegging a foeman in the abdomen. Another one took a shot in the leg.  
  
He was crossing the short distance at a half-crouched sprint when the remaining opponent got her in his sights.  
  
Lunging forward, Anakin tackled her to the ground. The shot spattered off the wall harmlessly.  
  
"Sith, Skywalker," the young woman called, clearly irked, "it's just paintball."  
  
Anakin heard Obi-wan snort. "It's life. He thinks even that's competitive."  
  
"I'd hate to see him relaxed."  
  
Anakin looked down to see Padme's eyes full of amusement. "I had to save the damsel in distress," he countered.  
  
The smile spread to her lips in a wry grin. "As always, my Knight."  
  
"Not yet."  
  
"In time," she promised.  
  
She reached up to brush a strand of sandy blond hair from his eyes, then moved her hand to cup his cheek.  
  
"Anakin," she said softly.  
  
He sucked in his breath at the familiar glow that her utterance caused. It was pubescent, and wretchedly sentimental, but still magic.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Are you going to get off of me or were you getting comfortable?"  
  
He felt the heat rise in his cheeks, so he pulled a straight face and got to his knees. "My apologies, my lady."  
  
She pushed into a sitting position and patted him affectionately on the shoulder. "I don't mind the position as much as the lack of oxygen."  
  
He sent her a fliratious wink and was pleased to see her blush. "I'll have to keep that in mind for the future."  
  
"Should we, ah, leave you two alone?"  
  
They both looked up to see Tizar Nan, one of Anakin's fellow apprentices, Obi-wan, and Sabe grinning at them.  
  
"They need chaperones," Sabe informed Ti. "You'll remember what happened at the Sarkan reception. They were doing so much of nothing that they fell off a balcony."  
  
"It was his fault," Padme protested, laughing. "He made me laugh so hard that I fell over."  
  
"It's your fault that you pulled me over with you," Anakin countered indignantly. "It's lucky we were over the reservoir."  
  
Obi-wan shook his head in feigned disgust. "Look at the two of them. It's tragic, really. Hopelessly in love."  
  
"Am not," Padme called.  
  
Her immediate rebuke stung Anakin more than he would have expected. It was true that they had been friends for ten years and there was little chance of that changing.  
  
Over the past year, however, as Padme spent all of her time on Coruscant as the Naboo senator, he hoped they had grown closer. Their friendship had certainly deepened and matured, but it didn't seem to be going any further.  
  
Anakin stood and offered a hand to Padme. She clasped his in a firm grip and he pulled her to her feet.  
  
"Your choice next month," he reminded her.  
  
Once a month, they convened to take a break from reality for a few hours, to forget that they were supposed to be heroes. The activities had ranged from concerts to hang-gliding.  
  
"No," Ti groaned. "If I see JEDI: THE MUSICAL one more time, I'll have to exterminate the order."  
  
Padme grinned. "I have something a lot better."  
  
"Not SENATORS: THE MUSICAL," Sabe pleaded.  
  
"Don't give her any ideas," Obi-wan ordered. "So, what is it?"  
  
She folded her arms, indignant. "I'm not telling you after that. Just be at the Senate Arboretum one month from now at the usual time."  
  
Obi-wan shook his head with a sigh. "I have a bad feeling about this."  
  
Anakin linked one arm through hers and offered the other one to Ti. "We'll meet you back at the Temple."  
  
"Agreed."  
  
Padme reached up to pull a gob of paint from his hair. "This is quite a flattering style on you."  
  
He smudged a streak of red on her cheek. "You're not so bad yourself."  
  
"Enough flirting," Ti interjected.  
  
Anakin turned and, disengaging his arm from Padme's grip, left a streak of green on her nose.  
  
"You're just jealous," he teased.  
  
"So, why did you want to take seperate speeders back to the Temple," Padme demanded.  
  
"Well," he said, "apart from my need to sneak around with two beautiful women, I wanted Ben and Sabe to have some time to themselves."  
  
Padme rolled her eyes. "You're worse than Sabe," she grumbled. "When will you leave matters to themselves?"  
  
"I am," Anakin countered.  
  
Ti sighed. "He doesn't know the meaning of non-involvement."  
  
"Tell me about it," Padme agreed. "Even from the siege at Naboo, he thought 'stay right there' meant to save the universe."  
  
Anakin feigned good-natured incredulity. "It doesn't?"  
  
Ti squeezed his forearm and grinned. "A lot of things will change over the years, but I hope he always stays this lovably stupid."  
  
"Agreed," Padme said solemnly. "Anakin Skywalker, we forbid you to grow up."  
  
His smile shrank. "We'll all grow up and change," he countered. "Even now, things have changed much in the last few years. Padme's not so dour, Ti's not so lovable..."  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"And Anakin's definitely lost that unhesitating over-inflated sense of heroism."  
  
"Never," Anakin murmured, horrified.  
  
"But, like I said, "Padme continued, many things will change, but this, our caring, our friendship will always remain, come what may."  
  
Anakin nodded. "Come what may," he repeated, unsure he quite believed it himself. 


	2. The Chosen One

*********************************************  
  
Ti had been ten when the rumors had begun. Whispered suggestions and disgusted murmurs that Qui-Gon Jinn was defying the Council.  
  
These were nothing new. Master Jinn was infamous for his tendency to follow his instincts rather than the direction of the Council. He might have been sitting on the Council himself had he not been so stubborn.  
  
These rumors, however, were different in one respect. Some of them claimed he had brought a nine-year-old back from his mission. A boy with incredible, but untrained powers.  
  
It was then that the "Chosen One" was first spoken of outside of the history classes. They all knew the prophesy, knew that someday there would be a balance created by a "son of suns."  
  
It was mentioned in disbelief and then in grudging respect as the possibility took hold. Master Jinn had died, but his last words were of the boy. Surely, there was something crucial about him.  
  
She had just been taken as Master Adren Schilian's apprentice and had not yet mastered the art of respectful silence.  
  
Therefore, when she first looked down upon the tow-headed boy who was desperately trying to look serious and meditative, with his weak chin and wide, baby-blue eyes, her first words had been, "If this is the Chosen One, balance may not be worth the effort."  
  
The boy had broken the horrified silence by laughing easily, a lopsided grin coming over his features.  
  
"I want to be your friend," he said simply. "Will you let me, please?"  
  
They'd been best friends ever since.  
  
They'd been through everything--trials, tribulations, first crushes, first heartbreaks, failed missions, victories, defeats, and, more often than they liked, disappointing their Masters.  
  
Once upon a time, she'd hoped the friendship would develop into something more. She'd told him as much and a look of genuine, profound sorrow had come into those eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry, Ti," he'd said quietly. "I can't."  
  
"Am I that horrible," she joked, but her voice trembled slightly.  
  
He shook his head firmly. "No. You are all I could hope for as a friend. I love you more than a sister. It's not you..."  
  
It's me, she finished bitterly for him.  
  
"It's her."  
  
It was then that she first saw a holo of the child Queen, the girl with laughing eyes and the smile of an angel.  
  
She had been jealous for a few heartbeats, but then realized that, no matter their friendship, she made Anakin happy.  
  
Ti would never begrudge him any happiness. Not now or ever.  
  
Four weeks later, the Senate session had started and Ti had met Anakin's angel for the first time.  
  
Despite her misgivings, their common ground quickly developed into a lasting friendship.  
  
Now, two years later, she no longer wished Anakin to love her, but that Padme would finally realized that she loved him as well.  
  
We must be patient, Master Schilian had once said. The Force hurries nothing, whether we wish it or not.  
  
She could be patient, certainly, but it was wearing thin very quickly.  
  
Anakin could hold out for his angel forever, but the other two women weren't quite as steadfast.  
  
********************************************* *********************************************  
  
"Do you think I should show up at the Senate session tomorrow looking like this?"  
  
Anakin brushed a green-streaked lock of hair from her face and grinned easily. "You could claim it as a cultural emblem. No one seems to object to the other paint you slap on liberally."  
  
Padme laughed. "I'd look ridiculous."  
  
He shrugged, then bent in to kiss her paint-smudged cheek. "You'd look beautiful, as you always do."  
  
She flushed a fierce shade of red. "I wasn't aware that the Jedi Temple doubled as a charm school."  
  
"It doesn't," he countered lightly, "but I've eavesdropped on enough of Obi- Wan's conversations to know the basics."  
  
Her jaw dropped open a few millimeters. "Why, Anakin Skywalker," she chided, "that is positively undignified."  
  
Anakin's mouth quirked. "You're just angry that you didn't think of it first."  
  
The color in her cheeks rose until she reminded him of a itabeet. "You know me too well."  
  
Abruptly, the color subsided and her smile broadened. "For that little incident, you owe me a favor."  
  
Anakin adopted a stricken look for her sake, though they both knew he would gladly coldshirt through a supernova if she needed it.  
  
"Oh, no," he moaned. "What is it now?"  
  
"It's nothing you can't handle, or even enjoy to some degree," she assured him. "Senatorial reception."  
  
His expression darkened. "I thought you said I could enjoy it."  
  
She planted a hand on his chest, shoving him affectionately. "I never said it would be easy."  
  
"Jedi shouldn't date," he countered.  
  
Her easy smile spread into an adorably mischievous grin. "Sabe invited Obi- Wan, so you two will be attending together as emissaries of the Order. The fact that you will be escorting us for the remainder of the evening has no bearing on that."  
  
"All right," he said with a feigned air of mourning. "As my duty to the Naboo sovereignty and its citizens..."  
  
She stopped his mouth with a kiss, brief and playful.  
  
Startled, Anakin drew back. "Isn't that my line," he teased.  
  
Padme lowered her eyes, clearly embarrassed. "I would say royal prerogative, but that no longer applies." Her eyes raised to meet his. "I'm sorry."  
  
He shook his head firmly. "There's nothing to apologize for. If it's all right with you, I'd like to try it again."  
  
She glanced skyward, her eyes half-closed, and smiled accomodatingly. "I've always wanted to have my first kiss in the snow."  
  
He arched an eyebrow. "Shall I take that as a yes?"  
  
She nodded solemnly, then puckered her lips, her eyes closing. Anakin barely contained his laughter as he bent down to return her original gesture.  
  
All coherent thoughts fled from his mind, leaving only the feel of her lips against his, the faintly citrus taste of them, the warmth of her hands, encircling his neck, the feel of her slender waist between his arms.  
  
He could have gotten lost in those sensations forever, but the need for air and a quiet clearing of the throat curtailed the moment.  
  
Obi-Wan stood in the doorway to the Temple atrium, his arms folded, his gaze stern. Padme looked vaguely mortified, but Anakin knew better.  
  
"I knew we should have left you with a chaperone," Obi-Wan teased. "Tizar hasn't seemed to be much good in that respect."  
  
"Master," Anakin replied. "I thought you disapproved of eavesdropping."  
  
"Inside," Obi-Wan ordered. "Good night, Padme."  
  
Anakin bent forward to kiss her lightly once more, then squeezed her fingertips. "I'll contact you about the details?"  
  
She grinned. "I'll be waiting."  
  
********************************************* *********************************************"The Council wishes to see us," Obi-Wan continued, "so I suggest you get your astronomical libido under control for the time being."  
  
Anakin flushed. "I think you're overreacting," he protested.  
  
Obi-Wan turned and arched an eyebrow at his elatedly flustered apprentice. "Am I? You're lucky Master Yoda wasn't the one who found you or you'd not be able to walk for the next five years."  
  
"She kissed me." He stopped and a grin spread across his face like a plague. "She kissed me."  
  
"And then you kissed her," Obi-Wan countered darkly. "Don't insult my intelligence, Padawan. You wanted this to happen."  
  
Anakin shrugged. "Only for the last ten years."  
  
"That's what I was afraid of." His Master sighed wearily. "She's a distraction, Anakin. And the last thing you need right now is a distraction."  
  
"The last thing," Anakin burst out. "If I don't have a distraction, I may very well go mad."  
  
"Anakin," Obi-Wan said patiently.  
  
"No!"  
  
A panel of transparisteel shattered behind them, concurrent to his outburst. Obi-Wan stared, slack-jawed at his apprentice. Unflagged, Anakin plunged on.  
  
"I may be a Jedi, Master, but I'm also a human. Over the last ten years, I've changed so much that I can barely recognize the idealistic slave-boy who raced his way off of Tatooine."  
  
"The way of the Jedi is meant to reshape us, to change our priorities."  
  
"It should not change who we are," Anakin protested. "Padme is the one person who keeps me grounded."  
  
He came to a halt, breathing hard. Calming himself, he met Obi-Wan's gaze.  
  
"I'm sorry for my impertinence, Master," he said quietly, "but please, don't make me give her up."  
  
Obi-Wan held his gaze for a long moment, then sighed wearily. "I won't forbid this..."  
  
Anakin let out his breath in an explosive sigh. "Thank you, Master!"  
  
"But the Council very well might," he continued. "You know how...confident they are in your sense of control."  
  
Anakin's mood darkened considerably. "All too well," he mumbled.  
  
They reached the Council chambers and were immediately ushered in. Crossing to the speakers' circle, they bowed in unison.  
  
"An unusual assignment we have for you," Yoda stated. "Skywalker, know Senator Naberrie you do?"  
  
Anakin couldn't miss Obi-Wan's telepathic elbow to the ribs. "Yes, Master. Quite well."  
  
"Then know you that a strong advocate of the anti-cloning legislation she is," he responded.  
  
The matter had come up, frequently and vehemently.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Many enemies she has made as a result."  
  
"There has been a threat to her life," Master Windu continued. "We are not sure from whom, but her security chief feels, and we are not sure that he is inaccurate, that there will be an assassination attempt."  
  
Anakin's mouth quirked. "Unless the assassin is discovered first."  
  
"Yes," Windu affirmed. "And that is where you two come in."  
  
"Her protection you will be for the time being. Discover the assassin you must before act he can."  
  
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said.  
  
"Quarters you will be given at the Naboo Consulate," he continued. "By her side always you must be."  
  
//I have a bad feeling about this.//  
  
Stifling a laugh at his Master's heartfelt, exasperated sentiment, Anakin nodded. "We will do our best to comply, Masters."  
  
*********************************************  
  
"Padme?"  
  
Hearing Anakin's voice, Padme let out a heartfelt noise of exasperation and shoved the datapad and cards from her lap. She was surrounded by petitions, reports, records, books.  
  
She had three days before she had to present her formal objection to the Mandalore Resolution before the Senate and she was swamped in technicalities.  
  
"I'm back here somewhere," she called, getting to her feet, "though if you can find me, it will be a certifiable miracle."  
  
A stack of datacards was removed from the desk, revealing Anakin. "Sache said you had a lot of work to do, but this is ridiculous. You've completely barricaded yourself into your office."  
  
"Office, nothing," Padme countered wryly. "I can't get past my desk. I fall asleep back here."  
  
"I can't imagine that's good for you," he observed.  
  
"I can't afford the time it takes to travel to my quarters," she murmured with a yawn.  
  
A look of alarm crossed his face. "Padme, your quarters are three floors up."  
  
"Exactly. Do you have any idea how long it takes to get there?" She rubbed her eyes, then forced them open. "I fell asleep in the turbolift the last time I tried."  
  
He reached across and took her hand, then guided her around the desk. "As your bodyguard, I command you to sleep. If you're dead on your feet, assassination attempts won't matter."  
  
Her eyes widened in shock and delight. "You're the ones assigned?"  
  
He nodded grimly. "The Council knew that if I weren't, I'd beg my way into it anyway."  
  
Padme laughed easily and launched herself into his embrace. "I thought I'd not see you for another four days."  
  
"I guess I'm just lucky, then," he responded mildly.  
  
Suddenly, his mood darkened so significantly that even a Force-blind like Padme could discern it. "Why didn't you tell me about the threat?"  
  
Her smile shrank into oblivion. "I didn't want to worry you."  
  
He gripped her shoulders tightly, his intense eyes locked on her face. "I worry about you anyway. Having to find out this way doesn't help matters much."  
  
"I know," she said, chagrined, "but Panaka thought it best."  
  
Pressing a hand to his chest, she tilted her chin. "Please, don't be angry."  
  
He sighed and drew her back into a tight embrace. "I'm not," he assured her.  
  
********************************************* 


	3. Dangerous Liaisons

*********************************************"I don't think I'll ever enjoy a mission this much again."  
  
Ti dropped onto the bed with a sigh, letting herself sink into the soft mattress. "I think this entire room is against the Jedi Code."  
  
Anakin looked up from the report he was preparing to see her spread-eagled on the bed, in heaven. He laughed heartily and went back to his report. "The Code says nothing about diplomatic self-indulgence, only passion."  
  
"Diplomatic self-indulgence," she scoffed. "Is that what you're calling it these days?"  
  
"Mmm," Anakin mumbled distractedly.  
  
"Speaking of self-indulgence and passion," Ti said mildly, "I heard you and Padme were at it."  
  
Anakin's head snapped up. "From who?"  
  
She pushed up on her elbows and smiled wickedly. "Master Yoda. I believe his exact diatribe was, 'Mindful of young Skywalker you should be. Making out with royalty he should be not. Doomed to the Dark Side he shall be.'"  
  
Anakin snorted and hurled the datapad across the room. "He did not. And besides, she kissed me."  
  
She neatly parried the impromptu missile and arched an eyebrow. "You didn't stop her," she countered. "In fact, I would say from the handsome blush I'm eliciting from you, you rather enjoyed it."  
  
"You know me too well," he grumbled.  
  
She tapped her forehead with one finger, the smile quickly dissolving into a full-blown smirk. "I'm your best friend. I know these things by instinct."  
  
Anakin pushed to his feet, looming over her with a scowl. "You never said why you're here."  
  
"Since when do I need an excuse?"  
  
"Since the Nubian consulate is three hundred kilometers from where you're supposed to be," he countered.  
  
"Master Schilian has business with the Senator," she explained. "And then I've been invited to escort an aide of the Chancellor to the reception.  
  
"Besides," she continued. "I haven't seen you in six days. I missed you."  
  
Anakin's scowl melted into an affectionate smile. "I know. Between Padme's schedule and Obi-wan's enforced meditation to 'counteract my raging hormones', I haven't had much time to breathe. How are you?"  
  
"The Council's sending us on a mission tomorrow," she said, a note of eagerness in her voice. "A mediating mission, but it's our first assignment since the fiasco on Alderaan."  
  
Anakin's stomach threatened to turn against him at the memory. There had been a dispute about the rights of ascendency in the royal courts of Alderaan and Ti, foolishly enough, had taken sides. The Organas, her allies, had emerged victorious, but, caught in a crossfire, Ti had very nearly been killed.  
  
For seven breathless hours, they had been told that she was counted among the dead. Luckily, they had been wrong.  
  
Anakin settled for wincing. "Getting shot while aiding an insurrectionary force wasn't entirely your fault."  
  
"I think the Council would have been more furious if we had lost," she countered. "As it is, I made the Order a lot of enemies as a result."  
  
Raising her eyes to meet his, she smiled. "Hopefully, we can redeem ourselves on this mission."  
  
He leaned over to kiss her cheek. "I have no doubt you will."  
  
Standing, he took her hand. "In the meantime, it's time for you to prepare for the reception. We all know that you're a goddess, but unless you look the part, the torture of it all will not be worth it."  
  
********************************************* "Are you an angel?"  
  
Padme turned a smile on Anakin. "I don't quite know about that," she quipped, "but I suppose you'd know better than anyone here."  
  
He crossed to her, taking her hands in his and kissing her lightly on the mouth. The encounter was brief, but shot electricity through every vein. "You certainly are dressed for the part."  
  
One of the reliefs of the Senatorial seat was that the court formality slackened. No longer constrained by dresses longer and heavier than Padme herself, she preferred simple elegance.  
  
Tonight's gown was a gown of deep green velvet, with an off-the-shoulder, fitted bodice and a flared skirt, edged in gold embroidery.  
  
Her hair was piled on top of her head in a crown of braids, threaded through with emeraudes. Around her neck, she wore only the japor snippet her escort had carved for her all those years ago.  
  
Padme smiled graciously and dipped a courtesy, her eyes fixed on the floor. "I thank you," she said with mocking formality, "but you are mistaken."  
  
"I am a Jedi," he said simply. "I am not mistaken about such things."  
  
She turned and linked arms with him. "Such humility," she mused.  
  
"It comes with the territory," he countered. "Such as patience does with yours."  
  
"Senator Naberrie."  
  
Padme let out her breath, then turned a beatific smile on Chancellor Palpatine.  
  
"Chancellor, a distinct pleasure to see you once more."  
  
Disengaging her arm from Anakin's grip, she allowed the Chancellor to kiss her knuckles gallantly.  
  
"I believe you know my companion, Anakin Skywalker?"  
  
Palpatine's smile stretched for a second into something vaguely predatory, then returned to his normal half-smirk.  
  
"Of course," he said, his voice lowered. "We've all been watching his career with great interest."  
  
"Thank you," Anakin said, his voice slgihtly strained.  
  
Curious, Padme turned her gaze on him, but could not discern anything out of hte ordinary.  
  
"I must go," Palpatine continued, "but it was good to see the both of you again."  
  
He departed and Anakin sagged visibly. "What was that about," Padme hissed. "He's the Chancellor of the Repulic."  
  
"I know," Anakin breathed. "I just had a strange feeling from him. It nearly choked me."  
  
Concerned, Padme gripped his arm. "Are you all right?"  
  
"No," he murmured, "but I will be."  
  
Her smile returned. "I have no doubt of that."  
  
They stood in a corner, heads together as though conspiring. "Did you hear Ti has a date for tonight?"  
  
"Here?!" Padme breathed.  
  
Anakin nodded. "An aide to the Chancelloor. I'm dying to see her make her entrance."  
  
"Too late."  
  
*********************************************  
  
Anakin turned to see Ti standing at his shoulder, grinning broadly.  
  
Sheathed in brocaded royal blue satin from neck to ankles, with her hair combed back from her face and held with silver and opal clips, she was a striking figure indeed.  
  
"I can't believe you didn't sense me," she said mildly.  
  
"I was distracted," Anakin admitted. "And you're proving a greater distraction than most."  
  
"Watch it, Skywalker, you're attached," Ti teased.  
  
"Nothing wrong with looking," he said lightly.  
  
"I'll be the judge of that," Padme interjected.  
  
Something like wistfulness flashed through his friend's eyes, but was quickly quashed. "Don't worry," Ti continued. "He's always been yours. And for now, you should have a dance."  
  
Anakin forced him to meet Padme's gaze. "I think that's the best idea I've heard all night. May I?"  
  
"Certainly."  
  
Padme moved to take his arm, smiling all the while...  
  
And there was a blinding flash, accompanied by a whine. Padme's grip jerked suddenly and he was being pulled towards the ground by sheer matters of gravity.  
  
THere were screams, certainly, and the sound of more shots being fired, but Anakin's focus was singular.  
  
"Get her out of here," Ti roared in his direction, swinging her amber lightsaber in a series of parries to block the shots headed their way. "I'll take care of this."  
  
Padme was unconscious now, her strength ebbing from her as her blood did from the wound high on her chest. Lifting her into his arms, Anakin raced for cover.  
  
He had no sooner reached the antechamber than an explosion came.  
  
"Over here," a medic barked. "Get her to medical before the real crisis hits." Anakin was beyond exhaustion.  
  
The waiting area of the medcenter was busier than he had ever seen it, filled with friends and family of the victims of the bombing. Hysterical, weeping, they were united in purpose, but isolated in their grief.  
  
Every medic that entered the room was regarded as a mixed blessing--either the harbinger of doom or the angel of mercy. As individuals or in groups, those awaiting news dissipated.  
  
One might have thought that the young man sitting in quiet contemplation, his eyes focused on something unseen, had no emotional involvement in what had just gone on.  
  
Anakin looked up as Obi-wan took a seat next to him and gratefully accepted the cup of caf.  
  
"It's not the best quality," Obi-wan said apologetically, "but let's hope that what they lack in culinary delights, they make up for in medical care."  
  
Anakin sipped the caf and winced. "It's no more than I deserve."  
  
His Master sighed in exasperation. "You can't believe that was your fault..."  
  
"I am her bodyguard," Anakin gritted out, fighting to keep his voice at a discreet level. "At the very least, I should have sensed the danger."  
  
"I didn't sense anything," Obi-wan countered. "It doesn't mean there wasn't any signal, a subtle sign we should have picked up on, but it doesn't mean you should blame yourself for this."  
  
"She will."  
  
Obi-wan rolled his eyes. "She won't blame you for anything."  
  
A sudden thought struck him. "Where's Ti?"  
  
Noting the panic in his apprentice's voice, Obi-wan rested a hand on his arm. "Don't worry. She's unharmed and helping with the rescue efforts. Drink your caf."  
  
"I don't want to," Anakin mumbled, his trembling fingers tightening around the cup. "Not until we have word."  
  
"Drink your caf, then, because we may have news."  
  
A medic was approaching, her uniform drenched in blood, her eyes weary, but a lopsided grin plastered across her face.  
  
"Senator Naberrie's friends, right?"  
  
Anakin nodded, standing quickly. "How is she?"  
  
The medic sank into a chair and scrubbed her hands over her face. "We would have had word a lot sooner, but she had some internal bleeding from the wound as well as the force of the explosion. We couldn't immerse her in bacta until that was stopped and if we ignored the chest wound, she would have died. So we had to treat her the old-fashioned way. It took a lot longer, but she's alive and in bacta for a few days."  
  
Anakin let out a shuddering breath, his head dropping into his hands. "Thank the Force," he breathed.  
  
"Thank you," Obi-wan said. "You have our comm code. Please notify us as soon as she is ready to be removed from bacta."  
  
"Of course."  
  
They stood and made their way through the crowd to the doors. They slid open and Anakin was immediately tackled in a fierce embrace.  
  
"How is she," Ti demanded. "There are rumors going around that she's been dead for hours."  
  
"She's fine," Anakin assured her. "It took some doing, but she'll be healed in a few days."  
  
Ti sagged in relief, then released him. "I'll ride with you back to the consulate. Make sure you're all right."  
  
"It's all right, Ti," Obi-wan interjected. "I'll be with him and..."  
  
"If you don't mind, Master," Anakin said, "I could use her company."  
  
Obi-wan glanced between them, sensed nothing, then nodded. "I'll be back in a few hours. I think I'll go see how the excavation is proceeding."  
  
"Thank you," Anakin said genuinely.  
  
Ti linked an arm through his, steering him towards a turbolift.  
  
"What a night," she murmured.  
  
"You're telling me," Anakin countered. "I can't believe we let this happen."  
  
She fixed him with a pointed gaze. "It would have happened, whether we consented or not. You know how many enemies Padme's made. The reception was the perfect venue for an extremist."  
  
"Even extremists exist in the Force," he bit out. "I should have..."  
  
"Anakin, shut up."  
  
Startled, he halted. "What?"  
  
Her green eyes narrowed in something between pain and annoyance, she set her jaw. "I don't know what you think you'll accomplish by this unwarranted self-flagellation, but it's not helping either of us as it is. I'd appreciate it if you kept your focus on it never happening again. If you keep on this way, you'll miss another crucial sign, more lives will be lost.  
  
"The Jedi aren't infallible, but we need to move with the tides of responsibility. You have a responsibility to Padme and one to yourself, if nothing else. Don't you dare let this selfishness distract you from that task."  
  
Anakin stared, slack-jawed, then felt the heat rising in his cheeks. "Stang," he breathed, "I hate it when you're right."  
  
Her expression softened. "Only because it happens so often. Come on, you look like you need a rest more than those medics."  
  
*********************************************"The Council thinks I'm ready for the trials."  
  
Anakin arched an eyebrow at Ti, a grin coming over his features. "They've said so?"  
  
She nodded gravely. "At a meeting two days ago, when we were assigned to the new mission."  
  
Puzzled by her uneasy expression and the underlying wariness in her sense, Anakin frowned. "But, Ti, that's great!"  
  
"So Master Schilian thinks," she agreed, "but I'm not so sure."  
  
"Why?" Anakin probed gently.  
  
She raised her eyes from the cup of caf and sighed as she met his gaze. "I've learned much from Master Schilian and I've certainly changed much from the time you and I met, maturing and refining. But I am uncertain that I know all that I can learn from him."  
  
"We are the eternal students of the Force," Anakin countered. "You will be learning from Master Schilian and the Force for the rest of your life, whether you're his apprentice or not. The Council believes that it is time for you to stand alone in the Force, to prove to yourself and to them that you can still hearken to its callings."  
  
She half-smiled, her eyes closing to slits. "Anakin Skywalker," she mused, "and his fallback career as a poet and itinerant philosopher."  
  
"I'm a Jedi. It comes with the territory."  
  
She laughed. "So I noticed. Otherwise, we might be able to afford more presentable uniforms.  
  
"Anyway," she continued, "as soon as we return from Tatooine, I'll be starting the Trials."  
  
Anakin froze mid-sip, his blue eyes narrowed. "You're going to Tatooine," he said incredulously.  
  
She nodded, smiling apologetically. "There have been a series of inexplicable attacks by armored warriors and, as this is developing into a pattern, the Council wishes us to investigate."  
  
He hammered his fist on the table abruptly. "Son-of-a-Sith," he snarled.  
  
"Anakin!"  
  
He held up a hand, shaking his head firmly. "I'm not mad at you, but the Jedi Council knows how long I've been petitioning to return to Tatooine and now that there's a chance, they assign it to my best friend."  
  
"I know," she murmured. "It's not fair, but our contact there is one Shmi Skywalker. Would you like us to bring her anything?"  
  
"Yes," Anakin spat. "Her freedom."  
  
Her mouth twitched sympathetically. "We'll see what we can do."  
  
His beeping comlink forestalled any further discussion. Unhooking it, he raised it to his lips and thumbed it on. "Anakin Skywalker here."  
  
"Dr. Sater from the Senate District Medical Center. Senator Naberrie has regained consciousness and is asking for you."  
  
Anakin let out a sigh of relief, his mood suddenly lightening. "I'll be right there."  
  
*********************************************  
  
"Leave it to the Jedi," Padme said wryly. "Try to get them to have some fun and they come out heroes."  
  
"I'm not very good at it," Anakin replied, taking a seat next to her. "Otherwise you'd have never been shot."  
  
She smiled wearily. "True enough, but still, it could have been a lot worse. Especially given the subsequent explosion."  
  
Anakin blanched. "You heard?"  
  
Padme's mouth curved into a frown. "It's kind of hard not to," she countered. "It's been four days and they're still picking up the pieces."  
  
Anakin shuddered. "It'll take some doing," he admitted. "They can't be sure that there aren't others under the rubble."  
  
"Where's Ti?"  
  
She caught his mood darkening. "Tatooine," he mumbled.  
  
"Oh, Anakin," Padme breathed. "They didn't let..."  
  
"No," he said curtly. "I doubt they ever intended to let me return there."  
  
"Or perhaps they did not wish to dissuade you from your current mission," she suggested. "I take it the period of self-flagellation is over?"  
  
Anakin smiled in spite of himself. "I'm under strict orders from Ti herself."  
  
Padme's smile spread. "She's good for you," she commented quietly. "She always has been."  
  
"I know," he said. "I try to remind her every time I see her."  
  
She nodded firmly. "Good. Otherwise, I'd have to reeducate you and that'll be hard enough as it is."  
  
********************************************* Anakin settled deep into meditation, keeping his mind focused on the flow of the living Force. It surrounded him, bolstering him, strengthening him, and mostly flowed through him, coursing through his veins and leaving electricity in its wake.  
  
The Force was a many-splendored thing that thrilled and terrified him at the same time. It was a source of such magnificent power and the means and results of life. A never ending circle of purity.  
  
And yet that power could so easily abused, corrupted. Fear and anger were the greatest abuses of the Force, but it was all-too-easy to rely on them to find his center in battle. He could just as easily ground himself in hatred as feed off the power of love.  
  
For now, he reached out to Ti in love, as an affectionate older brother might, wishing to reassure himself of her continued well-being.  
  
Locating her life signature, he probed gently, his eyes drifting closed.  
  
A wave of anguish, pain, and harried despair blasted him and he had to fling out an arm to steady himself as he collapsed onto his side, gasping desperately for breath.  
  
//What?// he sent frantically. //Are you all right? What's happened?//  
  
There was no response, only the same gaping psychological wound. Sending what love and comfort he could, he stood, keeping the contact in a tenuous Force grip.  
  
"Anakin."  
  
The door had slid open and Anakin regarded Obi-Wan, wondering why he appeared blurry until he realized there were tears in his eyes.  
  
Obi-Wan chose not to acknowledge this. "We just heard from Master Schilian. Tatooine and a number of other Outer- and Mid-Rim systems were the focus of a massive assault. They razed settlements and held massacres."  
  
The blood drained very quickly from Anakin's face. "Sith," he breathed. "Any captives taken?"  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head grimly. "These soldiers don't believe in captive- taking, only extermination."  
  
Anakin shuddered, a violent, convulsive spasm that ran through every nerve fiber of his being. "I just sensed great pain coming from Ti," he said quietly. "Is she..."  
  
"No," he assured him. "Other than a broken leg sustained during rescue operations, Ti is fine. Your mother, however..."  
  
Anakin shut his eyes, trying futilely to block out the truth, but a sudden image accosted him.  
  
Ti sitting in the Dune Sea, Shmi's broken and lifeless body cradled in her arms. She is weeping heavily.  
  
"Please, no," she gasps out. "I promised him, I promised him I'd bring you back. He'll never forgive himself."  
  
Anakin's eyes snapped open to reveal Obi-Wan shaking him gently. "I know this is a great shock, but..."  
  
"No!"  
  
Anakin threw off his Master's arm. "This is the Council's fault. If they hadn't been such cowards, such selfish pragmatists, my mother would be alive."  
  
"There's nothing you could have done, Anakin," Obi-Wan began.  
  
"Like Sith there isn't," he burst out. "I've made a lot of promises in my life and thsi is the only one I've failed to keep--the most important one. I left her Obi-Wan and because I was selfish, she lived and died a slave. How am I supposed to forgive anyone, much less myself for that?"  
  
Obi-Wan rested a hand on his shoulder, not daring to extend the contact any further. "With patience and strength. That is all we can hope for."  
  
************************************************************  
  
They sat in silence, not able to eat, not ready to speak.  
  
"It was the mission to redeem myself," Ti said at last, "and instead of redemption, the entire Republic is now at war. And on top of that, I broke my leg and let my best friend's mother die in my arms."  
  
"I don't blame you," Anakin protested. "Not in the slightest. You were able to give her comfort in her last moments and she knew that I was well. Given the circumstances, it's the best we could have hoped for."  
  
She arched an eyebrow. "You're taking this well," she observed.  
  
"I'm not taking anything well," he replied. "This calm exterior is what I developed to ward off the desperate agony that I was in for the first two days."  
  
Ti glanced over at Padme, found her equally impassive. "I assure you, neither of us think this is your fault and whoever does is an imbecile," Padme stated.  
  
"An imbecile you would call the Council?"  
  
Anakin dropped to his knees and bowed to Master Yoda. "Not at all, Master."  
  
"Making light I was," he assured the three stricken young adults. "Tizar, a word with you I would have."  
  
Ti's face drained. "Yes, Master."  
  
Anakin reached out and gripped her arm. "Don't fear," he admonished her. "You have no reason to."  
  
She smiled wearily. "I'll keep that in mind."  
  
************************************************************  
  
Within three weeks, Ti had passed her Trials and Anakin was called to attend her Knighting.  
  
She knew nothing of the ceremony until the moment when she was called upon to kneel for the last time as a Padawan.  
  
Master Schilian adjusted the saber length, then took hold of her braid. Anakin, standing behind Master Yoda, caught her eye and smiled reassuringly. She simply closed her eyes and let out her breath in a calming sigh.  
  
The blade, too long by only a few millimeters, did not slice very far into the side of her neck, but enough to draw a cry and some blood from her. Her hand went to the wound at her neck, probed it gently.  
  
Anakin blinked.  
  
Ti's hand reached up to probe the gash at the point where her neck met her shoulder, sickened by the abundant flow of sticky warmth that stained her fingers.  
  
Dizzy, she did not have the strength to block the next blow that took off her fingers below the knuckles and bit deeper into her neck. Collapsing onto her side, she struggled to breathe, but blood filled the back of her throat as it filled the ditch where she was dying.  
  
Anakin blinked once more, found that Ti was now standing, grinning sheepishly, but radiating exuberance. Joy superceded the disturbing vision he had experienced and he followed Schilian and Ti from the Council.  
  
She launched herself into her former Master's arms, embracing him tightly, her grin not fading for even a moment. "I should have known you would try to kill me after all these years," she quipped, "but in front of the Council? I thought you had better judgment than that."  
  
Schilian shook his head in mock disgust, but sent a covert smile at the shell-shocked Anakin. "You don't know me at all, it seems."  
  
She released him and turned to embrace Anakin, but drew up short, her brow furrowing. "What is it?"  
  
He shook his head, clearing away the nagging memory of her face, of her lifeblood draining from her as her life force did. Finally, he smiled genuinely. "Nothing. Just a vision of a possible future."  
  
She held up both hands, backing away. "Not any of those," she chided. "I'd rather take life as it comes."  
  
"Agreed," Anakin said, pulling her into a tight embrace. "I told you you'd make it soon."  
  
"Boys," she grumbled. "Give them a lightsaber and they think they know everything." 


	4. Once More Into the Breach

Padme awoke to an urgent buzzing in her ears. Rolling over, she swatted at the comm. "Senator Naberrie here," she mumbled indistinctly.  
  
"It's Anakin," the familiar voice said curtly. "Can we talk?"  
  
Retrieving her wrist chrono, she squinted. 0700. A bit early for a social call, but this sounded urgent.  
  
"Of course," she said, more clearly. "Where shall I meet you?"  
  
"It's best if we're in your quarters, where we won't be overheard."  
  
What in the name of the Force is going on?  
  
"Come on up. I'll inform the sentries that you're here on business."  
  
"Thank you," he replied. "Skywalker out."  
  
Rising from her bed, Padme retrieved a simple robe and cinched it about her form. Five minutes after she notified the sentries on duty, Anakin entered her apartment in a blatantly foul mood.  
  
"What's this all about, Anakin?"  
  
He flung a datapad onto the table and resumed his furious pacing. "See for yourself."  
  
She sank onto the repulsorcouch, suddenly very weary. With trembling hands, Padme retrieved the datapad and scrolled through the file.  
  
By order of the Republic Armed Forces, you are hereby conscripted for service to the Starfighter Corps, assigned to unit 8337...  
  
"Conscripted," she breathed.  
  
"Is this your doing?" he demanded, his voice a hoarse growl.  
  
"Anakin," she protested, "you know I would never do anything like this."  
  
"Do I?" He ran his fingers through his hair in one violent motion. "This is approved by the Senate commission for civilian involvement. They're sending 600 Jedi to fight the war and I'm apparently going with them."  
  
Still staring dumbly at the datapad, Padme blinked. "What about Obi-wan and Ti?"  
  
"Both conscripted as well," he snapped. "Obi-wan's received a General's commission and will be leading ground forces. Ti and I are both in the same fighter unit."  
  
Finally, she raised her eyes to meet his gaze. It was amazing how such ice- blue eyes could blaze.  
  
"I knew nothing of this," she said honestly. "A measure like this would have had to go through the general assembly and it has not been even mentioned."  
  
"We're to be at a special session of the Senate this afternoon," he reported. "I can only assume that's when it'll be aired."  
  
"Sithspawn," she murmured. "I can't believe Chancellor Palpatine would not..."  
  
"Palpatine doesn't care much for the interests of anyone but himself," Anakin bit out. "He would not deign to keep you informed."  
  
"Please," Padme said, the desperation in her heart leaking into her voice, "sit down."  
  
"I can't," he bit out. "Obi-wan and I have to meet with the Council in an hour. We have to figure out what exactly they're going to do with you while we're off playing hero."  
  
Padme rose and crossed to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I want this even less than you do, Anakin," she said quietly. "But it appears that unless the motion is aborted this afternoon, there is no alternative."  
  
His fury subsided into intense weariness. "I know," he stated. "That's what makes it even worse."  
  
She pressed her cheek to his chest, sighing. "I wish I could go with you."  
  
"No." His hand came up to cradle her head. "I'll not have you involved in this, even for my sake."  
  
She sighed deeply, leaning deeper into his embrace. In the course of minutes, she had gone from wearied self-assurance to feeling completely lost. She needed his touch, his physical presence to anchor her.  
  
"I know," she said simply.  
  
*********************************************  
  
The motion carried with only one dissenting member and the Jedi Battalion as the media were calling them made hasty preparations to go to war.  
  
The night before they were to leave, six hundred Jedi Knights, Masters, and senior Padawans convened in the Great Hall for meditation.  
  
The Jedi rarely got themselves involved on this level. It was one thing for individual teams to take up arms in defense of peace and justice when the need arose, but quite another to deliberately enter combat against sentients.  
  
Even if they were clones.  
  
Anakin had, perhaps, the least trouble finding his quest in the coming conflict. His mother's face lingered in the forefront of his thoughts as he meditated.  
  
It was not vigilante justice or bitter vengeance, he reasoned. Simply returning the favor.  
  
A hand landed heavily on his shoulder, startling him from his reverie, and he looked up to see Ti's former Master, Adren Schilian, standing over him.  
  
"Come with me," he said quietly, not ready to disturb the other members of the 'battalion.'  
  
Anakin rose from his meditation and followed Schilian to the deserted antechambers. Gesturing him to a seat, Schilian sank onto a chair opposite him.  
  
"I do not often intrude on one's meditation," he began, "but as you are Tizar's best friend, I took it upon myself to probe your thoughts with the intent of aiding your process if possible.  
  
"I would not have interrupted you, but I am concerned with your focus."  
  
"The clones murdered my mother," Anakin said simply. "I only want to see justice done."  
  
Schilian shook his head, almost imperceptibly. "You mistake justice for somehting dangerously personal. I can understand your need for closure in the matter. The Council forbade you to return to Tatooine and when they finally intervened in that system, your mother died. You blame yourself and the Council and you would like nothing more than to have 'an eye for an eye.'"  
  
Anakin's eyes narrowed. "Would you not?"  
  
Schilian's mouth twitched, but he did not smile. "I probably would on some level," he admitted, "but remember this: your focus determines your reality. Your current focus is a danger, to your soul and to the lives of those around you. You are reckless by nature, but if you continue in this vein, it will become uncontrollable.  
  
"I fear for you, Anakin Skywalker. You have great power, greater empathy, and, greatest of all, passion. That passion, however, is dangerous. It is short-sighted and can be selfish. If you are to return from this war without the marks of a madman, you must learn to look beyond your own needs and personal vendettas."  
  
Seeing Anakin's protest on his lips, Schilian held up a hand. "Forgive me," he said carefully. "I did not mean to banalize the issue so, but the fact of the matter is, you need to refocus or all will be lost."  
  
Anakin stared, blinking at Schilian's words. Something in them rang true, but he couldn't begin to fathom what he meant by them.  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"I don't doubt that," Schilian said with a smile. "You have probably tired of hearing this, but you must be patient and allow the Force to work, even if its motives are hidden to you. The Force trusts in us and thereby dispenses its aid. We can do no more than to return the favor."  
  
********************************************* "And you are?"  
  
Anakin instinctively began to bow formally, then thought better of it and threw a crisp salute. Jah Antilles returned the gesture, then gestured them to seats.  
  
"Anakin Skywalker, sir."  
  
"Ah, yes," the Alderaanian said, smiling tightly. "Our Jedi. Good to see that you respect military protocol."  
  
Ti's mouth quirked into a smile. "We will respect whatever necessary, but never injustice."  
  
Antilles smile spread. "We'll have to keep that in mind, won't we?"  
  
Anakin did not return the smile. "Ideally, yes."  
  
Antilles' brow furrowed. "Does he ever smile?"  
  
Ti laughed. "Don't mind Anakin," she said conspirationally. "He got conscripted half a Galaxy away from the love of his life."  
  
Anakin swatted her arm. "I'm sure a simple yes or no would have sufficed," he bit out.  
  
She smirked. "Striking a superior officer," she quipped. "Perhaps he's trying to get court-martialed back to Coruscant."  
  
"Technically," Antilles corrected, "you're a Flight Officer. Skywalker has a commission as a Major and will be the Executive Officer of this unit. I wouldn't consider you a superior officer."  
  
"I'm a Jedi Knight," Ti countered. "Anywhere but here, he is anything but my superior."  
  
Nudging him none-too-gently, she grinned. "As you'll find out the moment we put him in a cockpit."  
  
Smiling for the first time since Coruscant, Anakin's eyes narrowed. "Is that a challenge?"  
  
Ti squeezed his hand affectionately. "I knew that would get you to bare some teeth."  
  
Antilles' mouth twitched. "Kenobi warned me about the two of you."  
  
"I bet he did," Anakin said simply. "We'll try not to be a disgrace to the unit too often."  
  
"I'm sure," he said wryly. "As it is, Flight Officer Nan, you will be the wingman of Ezrael Kar and the roommate of Lieutenant Feliz Taor. Major Skywalker, you will have the misfortune of being the wingman of Arin Lazre, but due to your rank, you get your own quarters."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Standing, he passed over two passcards and ID discs. "Those will get you into your quarters and cleared through security. If you like, I'll direct you there, then let you get acquainted with the rest of the unit. I think you'll find them a little more informal than anyone in this office."  
  
*********************************************  
  
Informality was an understatement.  
  
They entered the lounge to find the entire unit engaged in a bloodthirsty game of sabacc.  
  
"Officer on deck," someone shouted.  
  
Immediately, all hands were dropped but not before someone shouted, "Oh, Sith. A pure sabacc and we'll have to redeal."  
  
There was a stifled laugh as everyone saluted. Antilles returned the gesture, then waved them back to their seats.  
  
"Sorry to interrupt your game, gentles," he called, "but we have two new members. Our new XO and Sabertooth Four is Major Anakin Skywalker of Tatooine. And Sabertooth Nine will be Flight Officer Tizar Nan of Raltiir."  
  
He gestured to the table. "Have a seat. I'm sure they won't mind."  
  
"Not at all," the 'Oh Sith' pilot said.  
  
There was a round of greetings and Anakin settled into a vacant chair. With a grin, Ti took a seat across from him.  
  
"As long as we're redealing, you want in?"  
  
Anakin shook his head. "We're Jedi. We try not to gamble."  
  
"Drink?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Flirt?"  
  
Ti winked at him. "Watch it, ladies, he's already taken and I have no interest."  
  
Someone reached out and pinched him hard.  
  
"Ow," Anakin said in mild surprise.  
  
"Sorry, just making sure you weren't a figment of our imaginations."  
  
"No," Anakin quipped. "Just your nightmares."  
  
"I'm sure," the lone female interjected. "They'll keep us alive and on the straight and narrow. What worse fate could we imagine?"  
  
********************************************* My dear Padme.  
  
With those simple words, Padme's lingering headache fled in light of the elated smile that lit up her face.  
  
Communication from the front was infrequent for security measures and it was the first time in his two months of service that Anakin had been able to get a message directly to her rather than relayed word through a liaison.  
  
Something of him lingered on the datacard, a psychic signature, perhaps. Despite her Force-blind nature, she could almost sense his aura.  
  
It was sentimental and a rather ridiculous notion, but it was something familiar, and for that she was grateful.  
  
The content, however, extinguished the smile from her face.  
  
My dear Padme,  
  
For once, I envy the Jedi at the Temple. For ten years now, I've despised the atmosphere, the regulated environment, the strict code.  
  
But moreover, I despised its isolation, the fact that it was sequestered from the rest of the Galaxy.  
  
How I wish for a measure of that now.  
  
Our unit, as you know, has not been one of great prominence. We've flown escort missions for convoys, scouting missions, anything but combat situations. Whether from the politics of having two Jedi in the unit or the untested strength of our skills, we don't quite know, but the Sabertooths have been shunted to the back burner, so to speak.  
  
Four days ago, that all changed.  
  
It was a routine scouting mission. We were scanning the Delyan Sector's outlying systems for possible clone havens.  
  
Specifically, Two Flight was doing a flyby of Itzzak. Over its Southern continent, Moa Naie, Sabertooth Six, got shot down by an unforeseen military advantage.  
  
It had all the makings of a disaster. We were outgunned, outnumbered, and trapped, but the rest of us managed to survive.  
  
What I'm not proud of is how that was accomplished. My wingman, disobeying orders, began a strafing run of a town to drive out clones. I fired a disabling shot on him to halt his progress, but not before the town was consumed in flames. And in the moment it took for me to turn my guns on my comrade, their ground-based weaponry shot him down.  
  
Many out here believe this is a crusade of sorts, a noble cause. Ever since Itzzak, people have been treating us as heroes. They buy us drinks and demand to hear the story.  
  
They would not be so cavalier if they'd seen what I saw.  
  
Homes crumbling, children running screaming from their town only to be burned down by the people who are supposed to be protecting them. It was all I could do not to kill my wing outright.  
  
There are no charges against me. There were witnesses who can vouch for the justifiability of my actions. As though it's possible to justify fury.  
  
But they wil still want answers. The survivors, Arin's friends, and myself, they will all want to know why.  
  
And I know not what to tell them.  
  
Forever yours,  
  
Anakin Anakin found Antilles sitting at his desk, his head in his hands. By the feel of it, he was either brooding, despondent, or disgusted. Perhaps a mixture of all three.  
  
"Come in, Skywalker," he said without looking up.  
  
Anakin crossed to the chairs in front of the desk and sank into one of them. "Are you all right, sir?"  
  
Antilles finally looked up and forced a weary smile. "Sorry, news from the Fleet. The Mandalorians have set up a blockade around Alderaan and the armies themselves have staged a full-scale invasion."  
  
Anakin's brow furrowed. "It's not a good sign if they're moving in on Core Worlds."  
  
"No, it's not," Antilles agreed. "As it is, based on our actions at Itzzak, the Fleet has placed us in a task force assigned to take out the blockade. We ship out to the staging area at Raltiir tonight."  
  
"Raltiir," Anakin repeated quietly.  
  
Antilles nodded. "I understand Flight Officer Nan is from there. Perhaps we could arrange for her to visit her family."  
  
"She has none," Anakin said bluntly. "Jedi are typically not acquainted with their biological family. Even so, about a month after she was brought to the Temple, her family was slaughtered in civil war."  
  
Antilles blanched. "I didn't know."  
  
Anakin shook his head. "It's not the sort of thing that goes into personnel files. When shall I tell the squad to be ready to ship out?"  
  
"No need," he assured him. "The Valiant will be taking us there."  
  
"Yes, sir. Anything else?"  
  
"How's unit morale?"  
  
Anakin shuddered. "Mixed levels. There are those who accept the heightened attention and increased respect. Those who grudgingly admit that we destroyed a clone haven. Those who are letter to file letters of protest. Those who are in a bit of denial. And, then of course, Ti and I."  
  
Antilles nodded grimly. "What does your Council think of us?"  
  
He could still hear Master Yoda's voice ringing in his ears. They had not been happy with this turn of events, but they had not blamed either Anakin nor Ti.  
  
"They realize that what happened was the product of injustice and that we did nothing to cause it, but much to halt its progress."  
  
"Good." He sighed. "Get some rest, Skywalker. The coming fight will require more strength than we can afford."  
  
********************************************* Anakin found Ti in the squadron's gymnasium, taking out her anger or frustration, or whatever emotion she happened to be feeling on a combat dummy.  
  
Most Jedi preferred to use a lightsaber, but Ti had learned from hard experience that there were times when more was needed. As a result, she had disciplined herself in hand-to-hand combat and relied on both.  
  
She lashed out with her left fist, then threw a reverse punch to the dummy's jaw. Settling her weight back onto her right leg, her left leg snapped out in a vicious hook kick that struck where the shoulder and neck met.  
  
"What did he ever do to you?"  
  
Ti retreated, then launched a flying side-kick that snapped the head back.  
  
"I've been imagining that it's Master Yoda," she panted, "lecturing me on my temper."  
  
Grinning, Anakin reached down and pulled one boot off. "I hate to be the one to tell you this, Nan, but while you're flailing at shadows, he'll probably have dislocated your knee with his stick, then beaten you into submission."  
  
A roundhouse kick, step, then another.  
  
"Don't remind me," she gritted with a right hook. "What are you doing here?"  
  
He shrugged and kicked off the other boot. "Antilles ordered me to get some rest, but I can't possibly sleep until I've worked myself into exhaustion. So I figured I'd come down here and let you abuse me for a while. That is," he continued, gesturing expansively, "if you're up to it."  
  
She bowed, grinning mockingly. "Any time you're ready, Sky..."  
  
He had leapt into the air, his right leg snapping up to catch her under the chin.  
  
"Sithspawn," she mumbled around the blood filling her mouth. "I should have known you'd go for something underhanded."  
  
"Stop philosophizing and fight," Anakin countered gleefully.  
  
"With pleasure."  
  
Anakin's hands came up in the defensive posture, then just as quickly, his left hand arced down to deflect the blow aimed at his midsection.  
  
But that blow had been a diversion. With her other hand, she drove the heel of her hand upwards into his nose.  
  
"Speaking of underhanded," Anakin gasped out.  
  
"That's for trying to trick me."  
  
He dropped to one knee, avoiding the high roundhouse kick that had been aimed at the side of his neck and swept his leg through her standing leg at knee-height.  
  
"So," he panted, "in saber duels, who ever is disarmed first loses. What shall the killing blow be here?"  
  
"Whoever passes out first?"  
  
She had rolled back into a crouch and landed a hook kick to the side of his head that threatened to end the match right there.  
  
"No. We ship out to Raltiir in twelve hours and I don't think Antilles would be thrilled about having a concussed pilot on the job. I say whoever gets pinned."  
  
"Raltiir?"  
  
In that moment of distraction, he landed a crouching side-kick to her midsection, driving her onto her back. In the next moment, he pinned her despite her flailing legs.  
  
"Raltiir," he repeated breathlessly. "Alderaan has been blockaded and the task force is staging from Raltiir. And I win."  
  
She shoved him away none-too-gently. "Great," she grumbled. "And we're shipping ourselves?"  
  
"No," he assured her. "The Valiant has that unhappy duty."  
  
Reaching out, he probed her jaw. She winced. "Not broken," she assured him, "but my tongue didn't fare as well."  
  
"At least you took your revenge on my nose," he quipped.  
  
"True."  
  
He brushed her forehead with a kiss. "Ti, it has been a distinct pleasure being throttled by you. I'll see you at the rendezvous point."  
  
********************************************* Anakin waited just outside the airlock, his posture erect, his eyes facing forward. Beside him, Ti was in a similar stance, as though in position for a military review.  
  
The figure who came through the airlock hatch, however, was anything but military.  
  
Obi-Wan crushed his Padawan in an affectionate embrace, then stepped back and greeted Ti in kind.  
  
"I'm glad to see you both haven't managed to kill each other off."  
  
"It was difficult," Ti admitted, "but we did it somehow."  
  
Anakin grinned. "I see command suits you well."  
  
"Aesthetics," Obi-Wan growled, tugging at the cuff of his uniform. "They don't think Jedi robes are suitably militant. I tried to tell them that's the point, but they won't listen."  
  
Anakin laughed easily. "The briefing won't begin for another six hours, at the earliest, so I suppose we should show you your quarters."  
  
He let out a breath and smiled. "I think I'd like that. I have a few things for you two from well-wishers back home."  
  
"Padme," Anakin said hopefully.  
  
"Of course." He fished a package out of his satchel and handed it to Anakin, then passed two datacards to Ti. "And, of course, your admirers are restricted to Master Schilian and Padme."  
  
"Of course," Ti said dourly.  
  
Anakin pried open the package's wrapping and removed a hand-written letter. "Dear Anakin," he read. "What dark times are these when war comes down to the merchandising. On the streets of Coruscant, they are selling Soldiers' Send-offs--kits to create care packages for your brave warrior. At first, I laughed at the notion, but over the course of six days, the idea became addictive.  
  
"So, when Obi-Wan, excuse me, General Kenobi, returned to Coruscant for a brief interlude, I decided the time was right to send something other than half-coherent letters once a month. Despite the fact that I have never carried a white handkerchief doused with my favorite perfumed oils or sent anything sealed with a kiss, and despite the dozens of holos you have of me, here are a few things to remember me by. Of course, you'll quote me as saying, 'I don't need this to remember you,' but indulge me and enjoy the brush with normality for as long as it lasts. Love and hope always, Padme."  
  
Ti snorted. "I knew she was a wretched sentimentalist, but this is a bit ridiculous."  
  
"I think it's charming," Obi-Wan countered. "And you're just envious that you don't have one from a certain admirer as well."  
  
She folded her arms defiantly. "I don't think I know which ones are men and I don't care to find out the hard way."  
  
They turned into a corridor on their left and stopped at the fourth door on the right.  
  
"If you two will come with me," Obi-Wan said, lowering his voice, "there is a matter we must discuss."  
  
Not questioning, they followed him into his quarters and settled into the chairs in the living room.  
  
Without preamble, he turned and began speaking in a low, strained tone. "Of the six hundred Jedi sent to fight these wars, two hundred have been killed. Only ninety-seven of these deaths were clone-related."  
  
Anakin exchanged an alarmed glance with Ti. "Then what caused..."  
  
"Sith," Obi-Wan said simply. "Spies for them scout out the Jedi during the waking hours and at night, the Sith stalk abroad, murdering any Jedi and those close to them. I would doubt that either of you were in danger, but that's what too often gets more of our kind killed.  
  
"I must implore you to be on your guard. I can think of no better safeguard than the promptings of the Force."  
  
Anakin nodded gravely. "We'll keep that in mind."  
  
"Good." He let out his breath. "We've lost too many already. I can't risk losing either of you as well."  
  
*********************************************  
  
"The blockade is focused primarily around the northern hemisphere, where the cities of Aldera and Antibes are located. Lesser defenses are positioned above the continents of Thon and Lisater."  
  
A holoprojection of Alderaan sprung up, complete with the sensor readouts of the blockade formation.  
  
Leaning forward, Anakin squinted at the pattern. Getting anything through that defensive web would be difficult to say the least. To have the fighters of a task force caught in crossfires at any point in the web would be unavoidable.  
  
"General Kenobi's forces will be attempting a flanking movement, using the narrow channel between the continents of Eisal and Alder. Concurrent to that offensive, the forces of the Alderaan Home Guard, under General Organa will be moving in from the other side. Ideally, between the two fronts, the army will be defeated or at the very least, scattered." Obi-Wan turned to nod at Sadet, a Corellian General in command of the task force. "General Sadet, if you will detail the Fleet's involvement?"  
  
"Certainly."  
  
The Corellian rose and keyed in a code that enlarged the holo of the blockade formation.  
  
"As you can see, the blockade formation about Alderaan is tight, but not impenetrable. We will have the support of the Krakana Task Force using their heavy weaponry to knock out as much of the formation as possible. The snubfighters will be responsible for what remains and providing whatever aerial support the ground forces call for. More information will be administered as the offensive wears on.  
  
"Any questions?"  
  
Anakin caught a flash of something from Ti, turned to see her brow furrowed in concentration.  
  
"What is it," he asked quietly.  
  
"I don't know," she admitted. "I sense something wrong, but I can't pinpoint it enough to voice a valid concern."  
  
"Knight Nan," Sadet interjected. "You will keep us apprised if you do sense anything more?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Ti affirmed. "As will Major Skywalker."  
  
"Good. Dismissed."  
  
Anakin rested a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Have you had this sort of sensation before?"  
  
"Yes." She looked up to meet his gaze. "On the way to Tatooine."  
  
He sucked in his breath. If this were going to shape up into the disaster that Tatooine had been...  
  
"Perhaps we should spend some time in meditation tonight," he prompted.  
  
"Undoubtedly," she agreed. "I'll meet you at the forward triangulation deck on level 9 at 2100 hours."  
  
"I'll be there."  
  
*********************************************  
  
"Have a good night's sleep?"  
  
Ti glowered at Anakin, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "I thought meditation was supposed to bring peace and rest to the soul, not more confusion."  
  
"Ideally, yes." He slung an arm over her shoulders and squeezed gently. "Are you sure you're up for the mission?"  
  
"Wouldn't miss it," she rejoined. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Apprehensive," he admitted. "I'd feel a lot better if I knew what we were heading into."  
  
"As would we all," she replied. "Don't worry too much about it. Whatever happens, we will face it in the strength of the Force and in the service of justice."  
  
"How very noble-sounding," he quipped. "I'll have to keep that in mind."  
  
Turning to face him, she sobered. "Do so," she said, almost pleading. "I want no empty chairs at our post-op celebration."  
  
"No empty chairs," he repeated. "I'll do my best."  
  
And they embraced, holding each other in quiet desperation until Commander Antilles gave the final signal for launch readiness, driving them back into the reality of war.  
  
*********************************************  
  
In hindsight, they should have known better.  
  
The assault on the blockade had gone as planned, with the task force and snubfighters taking it apart piece by piece.  
  
Until the Mandalorians had brought in their own reinforcements, on their tails. Now, it was a toss-up between what remained of the blockade and the fresh combatants who were sith-bent on their destruction.  
  
"Watch it, Walker, you've got two trailing you, bearing mark..."  
  
"I see them," Anakin bit out. "Lead, any update on reinforcements?"  
  
"On their way," Antilles responded. "They should be here in less than a half hour."  
  
Easing up on the throttle, Anakin side-slipped to starboard, letting his two pursuers catch each other in a lethal crossfire.  
  
"I'm not sure we can hold out that long," Maor called.  
  
Indeed, of the dozen Sabertooths who had launched four hours ago, there were six left.  
  
"You'll have to."  
  
"I could use some help here," Ti called, her voice slightly strained. "I'm head-to-head with one and have two more on my tail."  
  
"On my way," Anakin responded.  
  
With his foot, he eased the rudder to port, vectoring in towards Ti's private dogfight. His eyes narrowed in concentration and, angling slightly to port, he opened fire on her pursuers.  
  
At that angle, the steady salvo coming from the linked quad-cannons shredded the engine nacelle of one fighter and slagged the cockpit of the second.  
  
"Thanks," Ti breathed.  
  
"I'm hit," Maor's voice crackled through the comm.  
  
Indeed, she was in a flat spin, vectoring in a wild dive towards the bridge of the largest Mandalore cruiser. Before they could even react, she plowed through. Within heartbeats, the cruiser was losing altitude, plummeting at an alarming rate towards the Alder Sea.  
  
"Scratch their main deterrent power," Ti said mournfully. "Lead, we're down to five."  
  
"So I noticed," Antilles responded in kind. "The snubs are no longer a problem. Control, where are we needed?"  
  
"Where aren't you needed," the controller resoponded wryly.  
  
"Cut the banthafodder, if you please," Antilles bit out. "We've lost seven pilots and can't afford to let the rest of us die while waiting for you to gather your wits."  
  
Suddenly, the space behind the Mandalore task force was very crowded.  
  
"No need, Lead," a new voice called. "We'll take it from here."  
  
Anakin sagged in relief. "Copy that, General Sadet. Just open us an exit corridor and we'll valiantly turn tail."  
  
"Return to the Excelsior," Sadet ordered. "It has orders to get you out of the battle zone until our work here is finished."  
  
"With pleasure," Ti responded.  
  
She was vectoring to port, coming up behind Anakin, when the explosion occurred. Having caught the business end of a concussion missile, her starboard engine was so much molten metal.  
  
For a moment, Anakin's heart stopped beating. Then, instinctively, he turned back to help.  
  
"I've lost my starboard engine and am losing stabilizer capabilities," she gritted out. "I don't think I can stay vacside much longer."  
  
"Go to ground," Antilles ordered. "For all the good it'll do, but it will keep you out of the line of fire."  
  
She was dropping below the treeline when the second explosion sent her careening out of sight.  
  
"Ti," Anakin rasped. "Ti, answer me."  
  
There was no response.  
  
"Walker, there's no chance. Return to the Excelsior before you get yourself killed as well."  
  
"But she's not..."  
  
"Our forces know where she went down," Antilles bit out. "If there's anything to salvage, they'll find it."  
  
*********************************************  
  
Anakin vaulted out of his fighter and straightened, saluting crisply. "Permission to go after Flight Officer Nan," he panted.  
  
"Denied," Antilles said curtly. "It's a war zone down there and we can't risk losing more pilots."  
  
Anakin felt heat rising in his cheeks, a burning fury. "But, sir..."  
  
"No buts, Skywalker," he snapped. "We lost eight pilots today. I won't have you be the ninth on some personal crusade."  
  
"She's not dead," he burst out. "And as long as she's alive and in danger, I'm not giving her up."  
  
Antilles fixed him with a level stare, but Anakin could sense anguished fury roiling beneath the surface. "You're sure of this?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
There was a long silence, then Antilles sighed wearily. "I'll meet you at the 930-X in hangar 7 in five minutes. Bring your field gear."  
  
Anakin's eyebrow arched. "Sir?"  
  
He smiled grimly. "Nan's one of my subordinates. As such, I'm bound to keep her alive. I'm going with you."  
  
*********************************************  
  
They landed half a kilometer from her crash site, not taking any unnecessary risks. The army was moving towards Antibes and should bypass both parties, but it would be a near miss.  
  
They moved stealthily, relying only on their Force-given senses and feet, one hand on their weapon, the other clearing away foliage.  
  
They found her slagged fighter in a clearing. Heart pounding, Anakin watched Antilles quickly scale the side of the craft and peer through the wreckage.  
  
"There's good news and bad news," he said finally.  
  
"What's the good news," Anakin said warily.  
  
"She was alive enough to have left the crash site. There's no one in there and no burn damage to suggest that she could have been cremated."  
  
"And the bad news?"  
  
Antilles simply pointed. Leading away from the fighter was a smeared trail of blood, as though someone were half-dragging themself to safety.  
  
"We know where she's headed, but we don't know if we're the only ones trailing her or even if she's alive."  
  
Anakin's mouth twitched. "Then I suggest we find out."  
  
Half a kilometer further, they stopped to reorient.  
  
"Don't you look the pair of dashing explorers."  
  
Anakin whirled to see Ti fifteen yards away. Propped up on her elbows, with an ashen, sweat-streaked face and a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, she looked horrible.  
  
But at least she was alive.  
  
"Thank the Force," Anakin breathed, rushing to her side. "What's your status? Are you all right?"  
  
"Not really," she gasped out, sagging onto her back. "Three cracked ribs, a broken leg, a broken collarbone from trying to get out of a fighter with a broken leg..."  
  
"Internal bleeding," Antilles asked.  
  
She coughed, a weak rasping noise. "Probably. I'm in too much pain to concentrate on the Force and ascertain the full extent of the damage."  
  
Anakin placed a trembling hand on her brow, drawing the pain out and feeding his own strength into her soul. It wasn't much, but it was the best he could do in the interim.  
  
"Splint her leg," he ordered, "and we'll need to wrap those ribs."  
  
"Agreed."  
  
Anakin slid an arm under her shoulders and lifted her carefully, trembling. Antilles worked quickly, using the combat medpack they'd been issued on their departure from the Excelsior. It didn't boast much in the way of real medical supplies--it was designed primarily for keeping comrades alive long enough to outlast a battle--but it was sufficient for now.  
  
"Let me walk," Ti pleaded. "I'll only slow you down if you have to carry me."  
  
They exchanged wary glances. "Are you able," Anakin asked. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Absolutely," she replied. "How far to our ride?"  
  
"A kilometer," he reported. "It'll be fairly easy going on the return trip. Not much..."  
  
"Stop explaining and get moving," she gasped out. "We don't have much time."  
  
Helping her to her feet, Anakin supported her for a moment as she regained her balance, then followed her back towards the landing site.  
  
Three quarters of a kilometer later, she halted, one hand held in the air. Her chin tilted as though she were an animal, sniffing out her surroundings.  
  
They were trekking parallel to an irrigation ditch that wound silently through the forest. There were no visible dangers or even predatory liabilities.  
  
But Anakin could sense it as well, an urgent tingling of his danger sense.  
  
"Get back," he snapped at Antilles. "This may not be..."  
  
His words were cut off as the Sith attacked. Igniting his saber, he swung it up to parry the vicious thrust that would have driven straight through the hollow of his throat.  
  
Ti was similarly engaged. Anakin was relieved to see that Antilles had sensibly taken cover, choosing to guard them from a hidden position.  
  
The next blow came low, arcing in towards his left hip. Anakin whipped the blade downward in an inelegant, but effective parry, then angled his wrists back towards himself, sidestepping to avoid the blade as it fell from the Sith's hands.  
  
Pivoting on his rear leg, he slashed upward, driving his blade from hip to throat in a single, violent arc. The Sith fell and Anakin bolted for Ti's position.  
  
Antilles took that moment to fire. The Sith turned and deflected it back towards Antilles and Ti landed a glancing blow to his shoulder. Enraged, he slashed in while her blade was still engaged, leaving a wound where the shoulder met the neck.  
  
Anakin stopped dead in his tracks, stunned. The vision.  
  
True to the memory, she raised a trembling hand to probe the wound, her expression bewildered and even frightened. The next swing took her fingers off and bit deeper into her neck.  
  
He was as ineffectual as he had been in the vision.  
  
But he had to try.  
  
"No!"  
  
Anakin rushed forward, driving his saber through the Sith's neck from behind and the warrior fell beside Ti, already dead.  
  
Letting his saber fall from his fingers, Anakin dropped to his knees and gathered her in his arms as if holding her could save her.  
  
"Too late," she murmured, blood already streaming from her mouth as steadily as from her neck. "Anakin..."  
  
"I'm here," he rasped. "Hold on, Ti."  
  
Opening a link to her through the Force, he poured every energy he could draw on into her life force, slowing the flow of blood, keeping oxygen in her lungs.  
  
But it was a mechanical gesture. Even before he could reach her mind, she was lost to him.  
  
His eyes snapped open to see her head resting in the crook of his arm, her eyes blank.  
  
A harsh, anguished howl ripped itself from his throat and quickly dissolved into anguished, convulsive cries.  
  
Rocking her, he held tightly to her limp form until the Force came to take its own into its embrace and she disappeared.  
  
*********************************************  
  
"You've been recalled to Coruscant," Obi-Wan said gravely. "The Republic wishes to know first-hand what happened here, at what price this victory came."  
  
Anakin, his eyes dead, his voice hollow, snorted. "I think I can ensure that will be stated, if not explained."  
  
"Anakin..."  
  
"She's dead," he said, his voice unchanged. "I knew what was coming and I did nothing to stop it, nothing to save her until it was too late."  
  
"You mustn't blame..."  
  
"Don't tell me what I must not do," Anakin exploded. "I've had enough of that and I know where the blame lies. I am as much at fault as the Sith who killed her in the first place."  
  
"You can't think that," Obi-Wan pleaded. "I know this is difficult for you to accept..."  
  
"How can you possibly know?"  
  
"Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan retorted.  
  
Anakin's breath caught in his throat. Yes, Obi-Wan did know what a loss of this magnitude felt like. Perhaps better than Anakin himself.  
  
"You and Commander Antilles will shuttle out within four hours. He will be rebuilding the squadron at Fleet Headquarters."  
  
"Yes, Master," Anakin said, his voice returned to its former state. "Anything else?"  
  
Obi-Wan's eyes closed. "I notified Padme of the event as well as your impending arrival."  
  
"Thank you," Anakin choked out. "I didn't know how I was going to tell her myself. I don't think I ever could."  
  
"I know," Obi-Wan said evenly. "I understand."  
  
Rising, he crossed to Anakin and placed both hands on his shoulders. "The Force has not abandoned you, Anakin, nor those who serve it. It may be impossible to fathom, but there is a purpose for all things. And the Force will be with you, always."  
  
*********************************************  
  
Padme stood with her cloak wrapped tightly about her small form, scanning the skies for any sign of Anakin's shuttle. Coruscant Air Control indicated they should be arriving within minutes, but her anguish lengthened heartbeats into eons.  
  
Ti's death had struck a deep nerve, as though she had lost a family member, a part of herself, of her soul. Perhaps she had.  
  
But to think of what Anakin must be going through, it defied sensation. She could not even begin to imagine it.  
  
The whine of repulsorlifts drew her gaze to the sky once more and she stepped back behind the blast shield, watching as the shuttle made its final approach and landing.  
  
Anakin made his way down the ramp with clearly labored steps. At the base, he halted to gaze at her, then rushed forward and crushed her in an embrace. Padme's arms snaked up to brace him to her, her face buried in his shoulder.  
  
"Anakin," she murmured. "I'm so sorry."  
  
"No more words," he begged. "There have been too many of them and too little real emotion. Please, just hold me."  
  
She was more than willing to comply.  
  
********************************************* 


End file.
